


Family Regrets

by SunKrux



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunKrux/pseuds/SunKrux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Myka's dream come true?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Myka's dream come true?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Story takes place at the end of _Nevermore_. There are possible spoilers for all of S1 up to and including _Nevermore_. No copyright infringement intended. I do not own the characters and promise not to damage them…too much. I will return them to the Warehouse when we're done playing.
> 
> **Thanks to:** **bluelittlegirl** &amp; **kat_rowe** for their beta work.
> 
> **Dedicated to:** My wonderful Evil Twinny, **Ryalin**, she asked for a fic. This might not be exactly the fic she was hoping for but hopefully she'll still like it.
> 
> * * *

"He used us from the very beginning," Myka commented angrily

"No he used _me_," was Artie's quiet, knowing response.

Myka looked at Artie through the Farnsworth trying not to let him see just how much angrier his response was making her. _His_ father was not the one who was taken over by part of a bifurcated artifact. She knew Artie understood what her father went through but now she needed to understand why MacPherson had targeted her family.

"Artie, MacPherson said that you went after family before. What was he talking about?" she asked

"Myka, that is a conversation I'd much rather have in person. When you get back in a few hours we'll discuss it,"

"When I get back in a few hours? I don't think so, Artie. Have you gotten anyone here to protect my parents?" the dark-haired agent asked

"I don't think he'll come after them again," Artie assured her.

"Well I'm not leaving _my parents_ unprotected," Myka nearly yelled at him.

There was no way she was leaving until she was positive her mom and dad were safe from any further attacks by MacPherson. After nearly losing her father and finally finding some common ground with him, she wasn't about to let anything happen to them. Not that she would have let anything happen before this had occurred. After gaining the knowledge that she had longed for while growing up, Myka Bering wasn't going to let Artie's insane former partner ruin the relationship she and her father were starting to build.

"Myka, really I think your parents will be fine until the cavalry gets there," the older Warehouse agent sighed.

"Artie, maybe you didn't hear me, but I am _not_ leaving _my parents_ until I'm satisfied that they're protected. He went after my parents, Artie, _my parents_," Myka hissed.

Watching from inside _Bering and Sons_, Pete could tell that Artie and Myka's discussion was not going as well as his partner had hoped. Wanting to diffuse a potential explosion, he went outside to see if he could keep Myka and Artie from killing each other.

Upon seeing her partner, a frustrated Myka curtly reminded Artie, "I am not coming back until I know you've circled the wagons around my parents." Then she thrust the open Farnsworth at Pete and stormed inside.

"Myka? Myka?" Artie called.

"Artie she's gone inside," the younger man told him.

"Pete, is she mad at me?" the keeper of the Warehouse wondered, worried that he'd damaged his newfound relationship with Myka.

"Honestly, Artie, I think she's more afraid and mad at MacPherson than she is with you," Pete informed his boss.

"So, she _is_ angry with me?" Artie queried.

"I don't think it's you per se but at the fact that it appears to her that you want her to abandon her parents while MacPherson is still out there," Pete explained.

An exasperated Artie assured Pete, "I told her that I had people on the way."

"I hear you, Artie, but I think asking her to leave her parents before the troops arrive is more than she's willing to do."

"Pete, I don't think MacPherson will go after them again," Artie stated.

"Artie, we're talking about 'Little Miss Logic' here. You know she'll worry that MacNuttyPants will. What he did to her dad really made her angry. I also think she's scared but won't admit it."

"Scared of what?" Artie wondered.

"Of losing her father, especially now that they understand each other a little better," the younger agent elucidated.

Artie realized that the thought of Myka losing her father so soon after finally letting go of the guilt she felt over her former partner's death might be more than even someone as strong as she could handle.

"Pete, please make sure you two get back here as soon as the security team gets there," the eccentric older man requested, "And tell her I'm sorry."

"Will do; Kirk out," Pete responded, before closing the Farnsworth.

Running on autopilot, Myka entered the bookstore and headed to the one place she always went to as a kid when she was frustrated or angry with her father. In the back, next to the storeroom was a small room that her mother had convinced her father to let Myka have for her own. Myka and her mom put an old couch in the room, and the walls were covered in bookshelves. Most of them were now empty, but a few had books that Myka had read over the years. The couch was against the window on the back wall. She walked straight to it, neglecting to close the door, sank into the cushions, and took several deep breaths. She wasn't sure why she had gotten so angry with Artie, since he really hadn't done anything wrong. The dark-haired woman pulled her legs up onto the couch, leaning back against one of the arms and stared out the window, willing herself to calm down.

Watching her dad suffering over the past day or so while he had been possessed by Poe's Journal and not knowing what it really was doing to him made her scared and angry. She understood her anger towards the former Warehouse agent, but wasn't ready to admit that her anger at herself was due to so many years of avoiding her father because of her own misconceptions. Growing up, he constantly belittled and teased her. She never understood why until she started reading the book he'd written. Myka still wasn't completely sure she understood why he had been so hard on her, but she could imagine the fear he must have felt.

Since he had heard the shouting from downstairs, Warren Bering went down to make sure his little girl was okay. He hadn't been able to make out what was being said, but he could tell she was upset. For the first time since she had been born, he was going to do what he'd always wanted to do but couldn't find it in himself to do: he wanted to comfort his daughter. By the time he'd gotten halfway down the stairs, Myka had stormed into the room he'd never been allowed to enter when she was younger. He walked down the rest of the stairs noiselessly as she entered the room and headed straight for the couch.

He stood at the door for a while, just waiting as she calmed down. Warren wasn't sure what he should do next, so he knocked on the door jam to make her aware of his presence. The noise startled Myka out of her reverie.

"Dad, what are you doing?" she asked, wiping her face and hoping he hadn't seen the tears that were threatening to escape.

"Do you always shout at your boss like that?" he wondered still standing in the doorway.

"Only when I'm frustrated," she responded quietly.

"You mother never let me come in here, even after you left," he said awkwardly.

"What?" Myka looked at him confusedly.

"When your mother convinced me to let you have this room, she made me promise that I wouldn't ever come in here," he explained, waiting for her to invite him in.

Belatedly realizing he was asking permission, Myka was quick to move her feet off the sofa and offer, "Dad, you can come in, if you want."

He entered the room and looked around, noticing piles of books near the couch. Picking up the closest book, glancing at the author's name, then looking pointedly at his daughter, Warren said, "J.D Robb, really, Myka? There are better books out there, you know."

A small smile spread over Myka's face as she answered, "I read those just to bug you, you know. I never really liked them, but I knew you wouldn't like them at all. Surprisingly, though, the procedural stuff is fairly accurate."

Warren sat down next to his daughter, not sure what to say or do next. This was new territory for him. Myka watched her father, sensing that he was uncomfortable but unsure why.

"Are you feeling better Dad?" she asked hesitantly, hoping he wasn't going to revert to his old ways.

Not wanting to make her feel any worse than he had made her feel while growing up, the bookshop keeper turned to his daughter before answering. He noticed that she stiffened up a little when he turned, and her face became unreadable to him. Warren frowned as he remembered that it was mostly his fault she was so guarded with her feelings, especially around him.

"Yes."

"I'm glad because you had us worried there for a while," Myka told him leaning back into the couch.

"Myka, was I really so horrible that you felt the need to hide from me?" Warren wondered.

Myka sighed, knowing this conversation needed to happen but unsure if it would go the way she wanted. The frightened little girl inside her was almost overwhelming in her power, but her adult self was able to control the fear she was feeling. Not sure where to start, Myka looked down at the floor for a few moments before answering.

"It was easier to hide than listen to you tell me how nothing I did was ever good enough for you. It didn't seem to matter how hard I tried to please you; it was never enough. I never understood why or what I had done that was so wrong that made you not love me," she explained.

Myka looked at her father, waiting for him to fill her in on what it was she had done as a kid that made him not love her. Warren saw the scared, wounded little girl she'd been and the hurt woman she was now. He'd done that to her. He knew there was no way to make up for all the pain he'd caused her but he didn't want to cause any more. Feeling the effects of Poe's Journal had made him realize that life was too short and he'd wasted too many years keeping her away because of his fear that she would be disappointed in him as a father.

"Myka, I'm sorry you feel that I didn't love you and that nothing you did was good enough. When you were born, and I saw you, so tiny and helpless, I was frightened that I wouldn't be a good father. Rather than fight that fear, I gave into it and became the father I never intended to be. I know I can't take back all the things I said to make you feel the way you did, but I'd like to start over. I hope you'll be able to forgive me," he finished.

"Why did you tell Mom to burn the book?" she inquired, rather than tell him what he wanted to hear. Myka wasn't sure she was quite ready to forgive him.

"It represented the failure I am," he told her.

"I'm glad she didn't listen to you, then, because if she hadn't told me about it, I wouldn't have found it," she told him, moving closer to him. Myka hesitantly took one of his hands before continuing, "I wouldn't have ever known that you do love me. All I had ever wanted growing up was to know that my dad loved me. All that I got as a child was how nothing I did was ever right or good enough for you. If it hadn't been for Mom trying to reassure me that you did love me - and I didn't really believe her, you know - I probably wouldn't have come to visit as often as I did. I really saw no point other than to see Mom," Myka told him, holding nothing back.

Warren didn't know what to say. He could feel himself getting upset that she had reminded him of all he had done and said to her. He squeezed her hand before letting go and got up.

"I think I'll go check on your mother," he said as he left the room.

"Dad?" Myka called, following him to the door, confused by his reaction. She stood in the doorway watching him go upstairs. Turning around, she slammed the door shut. She paced around the room for a while until she calmed down again. Then she went back to the sofa and resumed her previous position.

Warren cringed when he heard the door slam. He knew that walking out on the conversation would hurt her, but he didn't want to respond while he was upset at her reminders of his inadequacies as a father. Warren didn't want Myka to mistake his being upset with himself for anger at her. He was furious with himself for hurting her like he had, and he wanted to change. This kind of change wasn't going to happen overnight, though, nor would it be easy for him.

Pete had gone back upstairs when he saw Myka's dad join her, as he didn't want to disturb them. He knew they needed to work things out, but he also knew it wasn't going to be simple. He and Myka's mom worked in a comfortable silence as they made dinner. When Warren came upstairs, Pete knew things hadn't gone well. He knew that eventually they'd be okay, but right now, it was going to be awkward.

"I think I'll go tell Myka that dinner's almost ready," he told the Berings and left them to finish preparations.


	2. It's Never Easy

Pete went downstairs to get his partner, mostly because he wanted to make sure she was okay, but partly because he was hungry. He knew how hard the past couple of days had been for her, so he wanted to reiterate that he was there to be helpful. As he approached the room in which she was hiding, he thought he heard crying. He quietly moved closer to the door, and the sounds coming from inside confirmed his suspicions. He wasn't sure what to do, so for a few moments he stood there working up the courage to knock.

When Myka was sure her father was out of range, she finally gave into the urge to cry. She didn't do it very often because she'd been told all of her life that it was a sign of weakness, and she didn't want her father to think she was weak, even now. Everything that had happened with him, the artifact, and now his walking away when she was trying to understand him better just came spilling out as she let the tears flow. Looking around the room after crying for a bit, she realized there weren't any tissues, so she got up to go find some. Just as she opened the door, Pete decided to knock on the door.

"Whoa, you should warn someone before you open a door," he commented as he quickly pulled his hand down before he hit her on the forehead.

"What do you want?" she asked pushing past him so he couldn't see her face.

"I came to tell you that dinner is almost ready," he responded following her.

"I'm not hungry," was her response as she walked into the office of the bookstore.

Mumbling at the lack of tissues in there, she nearly ran over Pete as she turned to leave.

"Why are you following me?"

"You know, if you need to talk…" Pete offered.

"What's there to talk about? I tried to get closer to my father and, as usual, he shut me out. I suppose I should be happy that he, at least, didn't tell me what a fool I am for trying," the wounded woman elaborated.

"Myka, I don't think he was shutting you out. Maybe he was…" her childlike partner started.

"Maybe he was what, Pete? What was he doing when he walked away without saying a word after I told him how I felt?" she asked moving out of the office on her search for tissues.

"What are you looking for?"

"Tissues and I'm not going upstairs to look so don't even suggest it," she threatened as she moved back to her room. Pete followed her silently and watched as she went back to the safety of the ratty old couch.

"I'll go find some," he offered.

"Don't you dare let either of them know what you're doing or why," she implored while getting comfortable on the security blanket of her childhood.

"Myka, it's okay to cry, you know," he suggested.

"Oh no, it's not. Not in _this_ house," the logical woman warned. "Every time I cried as a kid I heard that it was a sign of weakness."

"Well, not everyone thinks that, you know," Pete told her.

"Just don't say anything to them, okay?" she pleaded.

"I won't. I'll be back in a jiffy," he told his partner and quickly went upstairs to find tissues for her.

"Pete, will you and Myka be joining us for dinner?" Jeannie Bering asked as she heard him duck into the bathroom.

"Uh, not just yet, Mrs. B," he responded as he went back downstairs.

"It's getting cold," she called after him.

"You two start without us," Pete suggested just before he rejoined Myka.

"Did they see you?" she asked taking the box of tissues he offered.

"No, but your mom heard me; she has ears like a bat," he commented as he joined his partner on the sofa.

"Tell me about it. Good thing she never told Dad any of the stuff I know she heard me mumbling when he and I would get into it," she told him just before blowing her nose.

"Feel like talking about it, now?" Pete wondered as he picked up a book, "or should I read some Poe to you?"

Myka smacked her partner in the arm, while taking the book from him and hiding it. "Not even funny, Pete."

"Well we could read _Alice in Wonderland_ then," he suggested picking it up and waving it at her.

"It's _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_. Seriously, what are you, 12?" she snatched the book from him and put it with the Poe book.

"Well, you going to talk or should I do all the talking?" he asked.

Myka sighed as she pulled her legs up to her chest before telling her friend what had happened. "I finally told him how all the years of him telling me how I did things wrong and that I wasn't good enough made me feel. I told him that, more than anything, I wanted and needed to know that my dad loved me. He didn't say anything before he left, not even after I called him. He just walked away."

"Maybe he needs time to process what you told him," Pete suggested, as he moved closer to her. Not sure how she'd react, he decided to put his arm around her anyway, slowly.

"I want to know what I did that made him hate me so much," she mumbled, as she leaned into her partner's embrace and closed her eyes.

"I don't think he hates you, Myka. Maybe he's scared. Scared that you won't forgive him or give him a second chance," he offered, while hugging her.

"Mom always told me that he did love me, but I didn't believe it because he was always so hard on me. Then all this stuff with the Poe Journal and MacPherson happened, and I realized that maybe I should stop being so hard on him for the past," the dark-haired woman commented, as she tried to not to yawn, stretching her legs.

The past couple of days sleep for Myka had been scarce because she had been worried about her dad. In spite of how he had always treated her, deep down, she did love him and wanted him to be able to return that love.

"I think telling him how he made you feel was a start. Now you just need to let him figure out how he's going to deal with that as well as figure out how he needs to change so he doesn't keep doing it. It's not going to happen overnight," Pete told her, as he felt her body relax and her head drop to his shoulder.

"I hope so because I can't go back to how it used to be and I don't want to stop seeing my mom because he might refuse to change," Myka sighed feeling rather comfortable snuggling into not just the couch but her partner's arms. She was too tired to care if either of them thought it meant more than what it was, two friends sharing a hug. She was suddenly exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep.

"Myka, you sure you don't want to eat before you fall asleep?" he asked his sleepy partner, gently shaking her.

"Not really, but if you're hungry feel free to go eat. I'll get something later," she mumbled as she attempted to get up. The warmth and comfort of the two of them just sitting there was making it hard.

"Don't you think you'd be more comfortable in a bed?"

"Maybe but I'm not ready to face him yet," Myka said looking at her friend.

"Okay, then, we stay here. You wouldn't happen to have any cookies stashed down here, would you?" Pete asked, as his stomach growled.

Laughing Myka finally pulled herself from both her partner and the sofa, "Fine, let's go upstairs so you can eat before you faint."

Pete stood up, offering his hand to help her up the rest of the way, and the pair walked towards the door. Myka paused for a moment, then looked at Pete. "Can you tell that I had been crying?" she questioned.

"Well…just a little; your eyes are a teeny bit red," he replied honestly.

"Great. Maybe you can distract them while I go to the bathroom to freshen up?" she asked.

"I don't think they'd mind, Myka. After all, it's been a rough couple of days for all of you. It might do your dad some good to see you like this," Pete suggested.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that, Pete. What if he's mad at me? He'll just use my crying against me and really I don't think I could handle it if he did that, not now." The worried woman stated pushing her partner in front of her.

"Okay, one distraction coming up," Pete promised as he started up the stairs.

Myka followed him slowly giving him time to get to the dinning room so he could keep them distracted long enough for her to go to the bathroom without them seeing her. She knew her mom would be disappointed in her dad which could start an argument between them. Myka just wasn't up to any more arguments tonight.

"Mrs. B, dinner smells wonderful," she heard Pete telling her mom, as she splashed some cool water on her face in hopes of calming down her eyes. Then Myka ran her fingers through her hair in an effort to tame the curls just a little. Taking a deep breath and putting on a fake smile, she headed to the dining room.

"Pete's right, Mom, dinner does smell wonderful," Myka smiled at her mom, and then glared at her partner because the only chair left was the one next to her dad. She knew he took the one by her mom on purpose. Without looking at her dad, she sat down.

For a few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard were the clank and clatter of dishes being passed around and silverware hitting the plates as the four of them ate. Every now and then, Pete would try to say something, and Myka would, not too gently, kick him under the table. Myka's mom, Jeannie, tried to get Myka's attention to tell her to stop kicking her partner, but Myka wouldn't look at either of her parents.

Finally Warren spoke, "You okay, kiddo?"

Myka swallowed slowly and then looked up. "I'm fine, Dad. You okay?"

"I'm getting there," he told her, as he gently patted her hand that was closest to him and went back to eating.

At a loss for words, Myka excused herself taking her plate and cutlery into the kitchen. She set the plate and silverware on the counter and turned on the faucet to rinse before putting them in the dishwasher. Her mom came up behind her and rubbed her back.

"He's trying, Myka," she told her daughter. For years, Jeannie Bering had wanted her husband to be the kind of father Myka wanted and deserved, and she had never really given up trying to get him to change.

Myka blinked as she absently rinsed the plate a second time while trying not to cry again. She eventually turned off the water and put the plate in the dishwasher. Then she turned to her mom and asked, "What did I do that was so wrong that he hated me so much?"

"Myka, how many times have I told you that he doesn't hate you? He has never hated you, dear, he loves you. I just think the thought of trying to keep you safe and protect you from the ills of the world were too much for him. It scared him to think that he might not be able to protect you or keep you safe, so he treated you the way he had been treated growing up," Jeannie tried to explain to her daughter.

"That's not an excuse, Mom. It's not my fault I was a girl when he wanted a boy," Myka responded, wiping a tear. Closing her eyes to keep the rest of the tears that were threatening to come crashing down, the younger woman turned to leave.

"Just give him another chance, Myka. He heard what you told him," her mother assured her.

"Did he? Because he just got up and left without a word so how was I supposed to know if he heard me or not?" she asked as she turned back to face her mother, eyes shining with fresh tears.

"Trust me, dear, he did hear you, and he really does want to change. Please, give him the chance," Jeannie pleaded with her stubborn daughter.

"Fine, but not tonight; I'm too tired. I'm going to go to bed," Myka agreed, as she hugged her mom and left the kitchen.

"Myka, your mom made cookies. Don't you want one?" Pete called, as he saw his partner going down the hall.

"Not really, Pete. Good night," she called, as she entered her bedroom and shut the door. Going through the motions of getting ready for bed, Myka put on her pajamas and sat on her bed. A short time later she heard a knock on the door.

"Myka?" she heard her father call.

She slowly got up and went to the door, not sure what he wanted, or if she even wanted to talk to him. "Yes?" she answered him, hesitantly opening the door.

"I was wondering if we could finish that talk, but if you're too tired, it can wait," he asked.

Opening the door all the way, the young woman looked at her father. "I am tired but don't really think I'll be able to fall asleep anytime soon, so if you want to talk, sure," she sighed.

"Would you like to come in?" she asked, moving out of the doorway to allow her father to enter the room.

Walking over to her bed, he pulled off the spare blanket. "Why don't we go downstairs so we don't disturb your mom or Pete," he said, holding the blanket and moving towards the door.

"Okay," she responded quietly, then slowly followed him. Too tired to argue and hoping that maybe she'd get some resolution on what she told him earlier.

Warren led his daughter back to the small room that she had claimed as a child. Opening the door, he motioned for her to go in first. Nodding a thank you, Myka went in, heading straight for her favorite corner of the sofa. She was a little nervous and afraid since he wanted to have this talk down here. Was he worried they'd start arguing like they did when she was a kid?

"It's a little chilly down here," her dad said, covering her with the blanket.

"Thank you," she mumbled, holding onto it even though she wasn't chilly.

"You really think I hate you?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

"I suppose I didn't really give you any indication otherwise," Warren said looking at his daughter.

"Not really," she commented, looking at him.

He could see how upset and confused she was.

"Myka, I know I can't take back the things I said to you in the past, and I am sorry for that. I'm sure your mom told you that I didn't grow up in a very affectionate family. Before you were born, I told myself I wouldn't let that happen to any child of mine, but that was easier said than done. Especially when you're scared - and I know that's not an excuse, but I hope it explains some of it." He tried to clarify his behavior for her.

Myka knew this was hard for her dad, and she acknowledged, "Yes, she did tell me repeatedly about your childhood. I understand that better now, but when I was little, it wasn't easy to understand, because all I ever wanted was for you to love me and be proud of me," she whispered.

"I know, and I have always loved you. I regret that I never told you before now and I regret not telling you that I'm proud of you," Warren told her, putting his arm around her shoulders.

Myka looked at her dad, smiled and put her arm around him, "What did you want me to be when I grew up?" she asked, since they'd never discussed it.

"I wanted you to be the best at whatever you wanted to be," he told her.

"Really? You didn't want me to be like you and run the bookstore?" she asked, a little surprised.

"I wouldn't say, "no," if you'd wanted to do that, but I think you're pretty happy doing what you're doing. I can tell you're very good at it and seem to enjoy it," the bookshop keeper told her.

"Maybe when I retire I can come back and take over the store," she said.

"Maybe you can, but I don't expect you to."

"I know."

"I think your mom is right; you are a lot more like me than her," Warren commented

"How so?" Myka wondered

"You're stubborn, like me," he replied.

Myka laughed a little, "Dad, you're both stubborn. Mom's just more subtle about it than you are."

"I suppose that's true."

"I know it's true, so I come by my stubbornness honestly. Dad, I'm glad we talked. I know it wasn't easy for you and I know that some of it is my fault. I know I'm stubborn and I guess I was expecting you to realize how much it hurt me to think you didn't love me. I'm sorry," Myka told her dad.

"I know kiddo. Just remember that I do love you and I am proud of you," he reminded her.

"I will and I love you too. I always have even if I never told you and I'm proud of you too," she told him as she hugged him.

After hugging her dad, Myka sat back against the couch and stifled a yawn. Warren watched her for a few seconds. He realized that the past few days had probably taken their toll on her, but he wasn't ready to end their conversation yet. He felt like he'd missed out on so much of her life because of their lack of communication over the years.

"Myka, how did you wind up doing what you're doing now?" he hesitantly asked.

She looked at her dad, and part of her wanted to hide the truth of the past year or so from him. However, she knew that she'd have to change just as much as he, if they were going to be able to make their relationship better. She sighed before filling in the blanks.

"I don't know how much Mom might have told you about what happened a year ago in Denver, but my former partner was killed. For a long time I felt like it was my fault, but Sam moved into position too early, and the target 'made' him. He shot Sam, but he wasn't able to harm the President." Even though she no longer really thought Sam's death was her fault, it still hurt a little, because he was gone, and she had loved him.

"Your mom mentioned that your partner had been killed while you two were protecting the President, but she didn't mention that you thought it was your fault," Warren said pointedly.

"Sam and I were seeing each other outside of work so his death was doubly hard to deal with for a while," Myka said softly, not sure how her father would take this bit of news.

"She might have mentioned that as well," Warren said, as he once again wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

Myka looked at her dad, eyes shining. "I still miss him sometimes, Dad."

"I'm sure you do, kiddo," he agreed squeezing her closer.

"Now I work with Pete, Artie, and Claudia," Myka smiled.

"How do you like it?" her father curiously asked.

"It's different, and at first I thought it was punishment for what happened in Denver," she answered.

"And now, is it that different from what you had been doing?" he inquired.

"It's not protecting the President, but we do protect the public from things like the Poe Journal and Pen. Things that can't be explained in normal ways, so I can't say much more about it since it's just as top secret as when I protected the President. Pete is so annoying sometimes, but he's good at what he does." Myka finished.

"Pete is a good guy, and it's clear he cares about you; why else would he have disobeyed your superior to come here?" her dad commented.

"I know, but he really can be annoying sometimes," Myka laughed.

"I can see that. Maybe it's because you didn't have any siblings growing up," Warren observed.

"Maybe, but it doesn't mean I don't like him. I trust him. When we first started as partners, he could have turned me in for a psych eval, because of everything I was feeling about Denver but he didn't. I was still feeling pretty guilty and hurt over Sam's death and had a hard time focusing sometimes. But Pete told me he knew that I'd be all right, and that he trusted me. That helped a lot," she explained.

"That's good, because even though I don't know what you really do, I know you wouldn't have done anything to endanger your partner's life," her father assured her.

Myka flashed a small smile, "Thanks, Dad."

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?" Warren asked his daughter.

"I hope so. Will you?" she asked, getting off the couch and folding up the blanket.

Warren stood up and waited for Myka to finish with the blanket before heading for the door. They walked up the stairs in silence. At the top Myka hugged her dad and told him goodnight before heading to her room.


	3. Always Worth It

Warren walked towards the master bedroom, glad he had taken the time to talk to his daughter. He'd always wanted to be closer to her, but years of trying to keep her from seeing how afraid he was of not being able to protect her had inhibited their relationship. When he went inside the room his wife was still awake.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now," he said, as he got ready for bed.

"I couldn't sleep," she told him, putting the book she had been reading down on the nightstand.

"You thought I'd screw it up, didn't you?" he teased her.

"Not really screw it up, but I knew it wouldn't be easy for you or for her. You two have been distant for so long that I wasn't sure how it would go. I wasn't sure she'd give you another chance, to be honest. She's been hurt over this for years, Warren," Jeannie told him.

"I know, I wasn't sure she'd be willing, either. Did you know she and her former partner were seeing each other?" he asked, slipping into bed next to his wife.

"Yes, but Myka didn't talk much about it."

"She loved him, you know," Warren informed her.

"No wonder she took his death so hard, then," Myka's mom commented.

"Thanks for not giving up on this, Jeannie. It means a lot to me that Myka and I were able to work things out," the bookstore owner told his better half.

"You're welcome. Thank you for doing it. Myka has always loved you, and all she wanted is to know that you loved her back," she told him, kissing his cheek.

"What did you do with my book?" he asked her suddenly.

"I think it's still downstairs on the table. Why?" she asked.

Warren kissed his wife and smiled, "I know what I'm going to do with it."

"Warren, don't you dare burn it," Jeannie threatened him.

"I won't, I promise," he said, leaving the room. Warren went downstairs to the bookstore and found the table his wife mentioned. His book that would never be published was still lying there where his daughter had left it. He picked it up and smiled. He hoped she'd still be awake as he went back upstairs.

When Myka and her father had come upstairs, she had watched him walk to the master bedroom before going into her own room. Once in her room, she put the blanket at the foot of the bed before lying down.

Myka wasn't asleep, since her brain was busy processing the talk she and her father had just had. She'd wanted this for so long, and she was relishing in it. She lay on her back, remembering. When the knock came, it startled her a little. She got up and opened the door.

"Dad, you okay?" she asked, worried something was wrong with him.

"I'm fine, but I thought you might like to have this," he said, producing the book from behind his back.

Myka looked at the book. Because of this book, she and her father were starting on better terms. She blinked a few times to clear her eyes of fresh tears. "Are you sure you want me to have it?" she asked quietly.

"When I wrote it, I wasn't sure why I had. But after tonight, I know why I wrote it. I wrote it for you. I guess I had hoped once it got published, and you read it, things between us would change. So even though it's not published, it sort of did the job I had hoped it would do," he told her while taking one of her hands and putting the book in it.

Myka pulled the book close to her chest and then using her other arm, hugged her dad, "Thank you. I'll cherish it," she told him.

Warren hugged her back, "Well good night, kiddo. Sleep well," he said before returning back to his room.

Pete had heard the exchange and waited until Warren had returned to the master bedroom. As he made his way to Myka's room, he heard her door close. Pete knocked lightly and waited for Myka to open the door.

"Did you forget something Da…" Myka started as she opened the door. "Pete? What are you doing up? I thought you'd be asleep by now."

"Nope, couldn't sleep. So, what happened?" he asked, waiting for her to invite him into her room.

"We talked, and he just gave me his book," the dark-haired woman told her partner.

"Really? Can I read it?" he asked, excited for her.

"No. I haven't read it all yet. I just read that little bit before you showed up with the Pen," she told him.

"Aw, come on Myka let me read it," he teasingly whined.

Rolling her eyes, "Pete, grow up. I might let you read it when I've finished it. Now, good night," she told him, attempting to close the door.

"Wait, I just wanted to say that I'm glad you and your dad worked things out," he told her.

"Thanks, so am I. Now, may I go to sleep?" she asked.

"Good night, Myka."

"Good night, Pete."

Myka closed the door and walked to the bed. She put the book on the nightstand next to the bed. She pulled the covers down enough to get underneath them and crawled into bed. More quickly than she thought she would, Myka was asleep.

Pete went back to the guest room and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

A couple of hours later, Pete's vibe woke him up. Not sure what it was, he quietly got out of bed and opened the bedroom door. He stood in the middle of the hall for a while, listening, trying to figure out why his vibe had gone off. He walked towards the master bedroom and quietly opened the door to check on Myka's parents. They were both fast asleep. Pete closed the door and moved to Myka's room.

When he got to her door he could hear muffled sounds coming from her room. Just as he opened the door she bolted upright, screaming, "No!!"

Pete was next to her in a shot, not sure if she was awake or still dreaming. He took her arms and tried to wake her gently.

"Myka, it's okay, you're dreaming. Come on, wake up," he spoke softly.

Pulling herself out of the nightmare, Myka glanced around the room, slightly confused, but then she realized she was still at her parents'. She looked at her partner. "Pete, what are you doing in here?"

"My vibe went off, and I was checking things out," he told her, releasing her arms.

"My parents," she said, attempting to get out of bed. "Move, Pete, I need to go check on them, now!" she pushed him.

"Myka, we're fine, kiddo," her father said from the doorway. Warren and Jeannie had heard their daughter's scream and rushed to make sure she was okay.

Myka looked a little embarrassed as Pete got off the bed. She got up, ran over to her parents and hugged them both.

"I'm sorry I woke you guys up," she told them as they embraced her.

"Are you sure you're okay, dear?" her mom asked as they all finished hugging.

"Yes," Myka told her mom.

"Must have been some nightmare you had there, kiddo," her dad said.

"Yes, it was. Not one I care to ever have again, either," she told him.

"Want to tell us about it?" Pete asked, worried about his partner.

Myka looked at her parents and then Lattimer. "Not really. I'd rather you all just went back to bed. Again, I'm sorry I woke you all up."

"Don't worry about it, dear. You used to have nightmares when you were a little girl," her mom reminded her.

"Mom, don't remind me." Myka groaned, fearing that Pete would use it later to tease her.

"Really, Mrs. B, she had a lot of nightmares?" Pete asked.

"Pete, drop it." Myka threatened her childlike partner.

"Not always. They usually happened when she was stressed or upset," her mom told him.

"Mom, he doesn't need to know that," she chided.

Pete looked at her, "Why not? It could come in handy sometime," he grinned.

"Pete, you will not tease her about this," Warren Bering admonished his daughter's partner.

Myka looked at her dad, a little shocked but pleased, "Thanks, Dad. He would tease me about it, too. He's like that," she teased Pete, while gently smacking his arm.

Myka hugged her parents again before they went back to their bedroom, satisfied she was going to be okay.

She looked at her partner. "Did you need something?"

"Just wanted to make sure you're okay." He told her.

Myka walked back to her bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard. "Close the door, please."

Pete did as he was told and went back to his partner's bed. "What's up?"

"I didn't want to tell my parents about the dream. They'd just worry even more," she told him.

"Why wouldn't you want them to know?" Pete asked sitting down facing her.

"It was pretty much what happened with MacPherson only this time…" Myka started.

Pete noticed that her eyes were filling with tears, "What is it, Myka? What happened in the dream?"

"When I handed MacPherson the Journal and Pen, rather than turning off Jack the Ripper's Lantern without hurting my parents…" she started, but as the image from her nightmare flashed, she fought to keep from crying. Tears streamed down her face as she finished.

"MacPherson did something to the Lantern and my parents..." Myka whispered.

"What did he do?" Pete prompted.

"I'm not sure, but when he disappeared, they weren't moving. I went over to them and..." she went on, looking up at her partner.

Pete moved closer. He'd never seen her look that scared before, not even when MacPherson had actually been there.

"Pete, they weren't breathing and I couldn't find a pulse on either of them," she told him quietly. "He killed them, Pete."

Pete took her hands and pulled her closer into a hug. "Myka, it was just a dream. Your parents are fine," he reassured her. He felt her arms slowly snake around his back. She hugged him back while burying her head in his shoulder. For a few moments she let the tears come and Pete comforted her. When he noticed that she'd stopped shaking, he pulled away a little.

"Feel better now?" he asked.

"A little but I'm scared Pete, scared that he'll come back and kill them," she told him, breaking the embrace to look at him.

"Myka, you know Artie won't let that happen," Pete assured her.

"I know Artie will do his best to make sure it doesn't happen, but we both know what MacPherson is capable of. You saw the body trapped in the wreck the implosion bomb at the Japanese Embassy created. He doesn't care who he hurts or kills, Pete," Myka jogged her partner's memory.

"True but Artie promised he was sending people to protect your parents while we go after him," Pete reminded her.

"I know, but, Pete, they're all I have," she whispered while looking at him. Her eyes were filling with tears again.

"They're not all you have, Myka. You have me, Artie, Claudia, and Leena. Heck, I bet even weird Mrs. Fredric cares, in her own way," Pete told her.

Myka managed a small smile, "I guess so."

"I know so. I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon," he promised her.

The dark-haired woman yawned and motioned for her partner to move. Pete stood up and once he had moved, Myka lay down on the bed, sticking her legs and feet under the covers. "Thanks, Pete. Please don't mention it to them. They don't need to know how scared I am," she pleaded, as she got more comfortable.

"No problem. Maybe you should tell them. They might not worry as much," he suggested.

"Pete, they would worry more if they knew how scared I am. Trust me," she told him yawning.

"Okay, I won't tell them. But if they ask…" he started.

"You say nothing," she instructed him.

"Yes, bossy," he teased.

Myka rolled her eyes, "Go to bed, Pete."

"You okay?" he asked, before leaving

"I think so," she responded.

"Okay. You know where I am if you aren't," he offered as he backed up to the door. He watched her as he did. When she closed her eyes for the first time, he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Myka closed her eyes and as soon as she did, the image from her dream was there. Her eyes flew open again as she sighed. She tried again to close her eyes but the same thing happened. The image of her dead parents greeted her.

Unable to erase the memory of her dream, the curly-haired agent got out of bed and padded to the kitchen. Thinking that some warm milk might help, Myka set about getting a mug and the milk. Little did she know that Pete hadn't closed his door when he went back to bed.

Since he was worried about his partner, Pete watched from his room and followed her as she went to the kitchen. He stood in the doorway for a moment and quietly cleared his throat.

Myka jumped a little as she set the mug of milk in the microwave, "Pete, stop doing that," she whispered, annoyed.

"Sorry, but I thought you heard me following you," he said.

"Well, I didn't. Why aren't you asleep?" she asked, as the microwave beeped, alerting her that her milk was done. Opening the door, she pulled out the cup and walked over to the table. Setting the mug down, Myka looked at her partner, "What?"

"Where are the glasses?" he asked, quietly opening and closing cupboard doors.

Walking over to the cupboard where her mom housed the glasses, she opened the door, took one out, and handed it to him.

"Thank you," he said, getting the milk out of the refrigerator and pouring some into his glass.

Knowing before he even asked, Myka pushed the cookie jar her mom kept on the counter towards him.

"Why'd ya do that?" he wondered, looking at her.

"Because I heard your stomach growl, you goof," she told him, opening the jar.

"Oh, thanks. Want one?" he said, taking a couple of cookies for himself.

"Maybe one," she told him, taking his cookies.

"Hey! Those are my cookies," he called.

"Shh, don't wake my parents," she scolded him, as he took two more cookies from the jar.

"Well then, don't steal my cookies," the young man admonished as they walked to the table and sat down.

Myka took a sip of the milk she'd warmed up for herself before taking a bite out of one of the cookies she had stolen from Pete.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, before devouring a cookie in one bite.

The dark-haired woman chuckled quietly as she watched him. No matter how much she'd tried to keep him from making her laugh sometimes, he somehow always managed to defeat her.

"No, I kept seeing the end of my dream," she commented.

"It was just a dream," he said, trying to steal her last cookie, since he'd already eaten both of his.

Myka slapped his hand and ate her cookie before he could steal it. "You know there are more in the jar," she told him.

"I know, but it's more fun to try to steal them back," he grinned.

"You are so annoying," she said, smiling back.

"What are you two doing?" Warren Bering asked, standing in the doorway.

Pete and Myka both jumped when they heard her dad's voice.

"Myka stole my cookies," Pip said, pointing at her.

"Grow up, Pete," Myka told him. "I couldn't get back to sleep so I thought a bit of warm milk might help."

"I see. And the cookies?" her dad asked opening the jar and looking in it, "Did you two leave any for me?"

"I did, but you can't trust Pete around cookies," Myka told her dad.

Warren took a couple cookies and then got a glass and took the milk out. Pouring the milk he hesitantly asked, "Myka, what was your nightmare about?" He came over to the table and sat down next to her.

"Seriously Dad, you better watch Pete, he'll steal your cookies if you don't," she told him, hoping to avoid discussing her dream with him. Pete glared, taunting her, while reaching across the table in an attempt to steal a cookie.

"Pete, leave his cookies alone," Myka warned him as she swatted his arm.

"Myka, you didn't answer my question," her dad reminded her as he ate a cookie.

Myka sighed and looked at her dad, "Unlike what happened tonight, the man who sent you the Journal didn't let you and Mom live in my dream," she told him.

"Myka, he did and, from what Pete has told me about your boss, Artie, this man won't get a chance to hurt us again," her dad reminded her, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

"I know…but," she started.

"But nothing, Myka, Artie isn't going to let MacNuttyPants near them or anyone else's family," Pete promised her.

Myka smiled at her dad and Pete, "Thanks. I may need to hear that a few more times though."

"We'll both remind you," Pete told her.

Yawning, Myka stood up, "Well, I'm going to once again attempt to get some sleep," she said to her dad and partner as she picked up her mug.

Warren took the mug from her, "I'll clean up, kiddo, you two have a long journey in the morning."

"Thanks, Dad," Myka said kissing him on the cheek without thinking.

Her dad smiled, "I could get used to that."

Myka laughed as she walked back to her room, "Me, too," she told him.

"Night, Mr. B," Pete commented, handing his glass to the older man.

"You best rinse that glass out before you go to bed, son," Myka's dad teased him.

"You took Myka's mug," Pete wheedled, as he rinsed his glass and then put it in the dishwasher.

"She's my daughter," Myka's dad reminded him, winking.

"Good night, sir," the younger man chuckled as he left the kitchen.

While walking back to the guest room, Pete noticed that Myka's door was open a little so he poked his head in, "You okay partner?"

Myka was lying on her side, trying to will herself to sleep but not having any luck.

"I will be once I can get some sleep," she told him.

Pete opened the door and came into her room. "I could tell you a story," he offered.

Myka smiled and then yawned again. "I don't think one of your stories would help put me to sleep."

"Well, I could keep you company until you do, if you want," he offered.

"Pete, this bed is barely big enough for me, much less you. I think I'll be okay," she pointed out.

Looking down, Pete asked, "What's wrong with the floor?"

"I'm not sleeping on the floor," she teased him.

Pete rolled his eyes and left without closing the door. Myka saw the door open and sat up getting ready to close it, when Pete came back in carrying a pillow and a blanket. He closed the door behind him, and then walked over to her bed.

"Pete, what are you doing?" she asked watching him lie down on the floor next to her bed.

"I'm going to keep you company," he offered.

"I told you, you don't have to," she repeated.

"I know, but maybe you'll be able to sleep if I'm here. I know when I was a kid it used to help me when one of my parents would stay with me until I fell asleep after a nightmare," he commented covering himself with the blanket.

"Thanks, Pete," she said softly.

"Sleep well, Myka," he told her as he watched her get comfortable again.

"You too, Pete," Myka yawned and closed her eyes.

Soon both were asleep, and no more nightmares plagued the dark-haired woman that night.


	4. In The End

Pete was up before Myka and quietly slipped out of her room. He hoped he'd be able to get back to the guest room before either of her parents awakened. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side.

"Pip, what were you doing in there?" Warren Bering asked, as he watched Pete exiting his daughter's room.

Myka opened her eyes when Pete closed the door. She'd been awake for a few minutes when she heard him get up and leave. Not wanting to discuss why he'd spent the night on the floor of her room, she'd let him think she was still asleep. She smiled a little when she heard her father grill him.

She decided she'd better go rescue her partner. Myka got up and opened the door as Pete started to explain himself to her father.

"Dad, I had a hard time getting back to sleep so Pete slept on the floor to keep me company until I fell asleep. Nothing happened," she told her dad.

Pete flashed a relieved smile towards his partner and ducked into the guest room.

Myka and her father laughed as Pete left the hallway. Warren walked down the hall towards his little girl.

"You going to be okay, kiddo?" he asked concernedly.

"Yes, Dad. I guess all the excitement over the past day or so just caught up with me," she answered.

"What about that nightmare?" he asked cautiously.

"Not one I'd want to have again, that's for sure. But it was just a nightmare, and I'll be fine," she promised him.

Myka hugged her dad and then went to shower and get ready to leave. Hopefully, the people Artie promised were going to show up soon.

Pete got ready in a hurry because his stomach was growling. He could smell whatever Myka's mom was making for breakfast. He left his suitcase sitting next to the door in the guest room after making sure he had everything. He met Myka in the hall as he left.

"How'd you sleep?" she asked him.

"Fine, you?" he responded.

"Pretty well actually, so thank you," she told him as they entered the kitchen.

"Smells good, Mrs.B," Pete greeted Myka's mom.

"Pete, anything smells good to you since you're always hungry," Myka teased him as she hugged her mom good morning.

"Did you two sleep well?" she asked.

"Fine," they said in unison.

Soon everyone was seated and enjoying breakfast. As Myka and Pete cleaned up, the bell from downstairs rang. Myka looked at Pete, then her parents.

"Hopefully, that's the people Artie promised," she said as she headed downstairs to see.

Two gentlemen dressed in typical Secret Service garb were waiting at the door.

"Good morning Agent Bering, Agents Fine and Armstrong reporting," Agent Fine greeted her. Both agents held their badges out for Myka to verify they were indeed Secret Service.

"Good morning, gentlemen. Come in," she said as she opened the door and moved to the side to allow them to come in

"Thanks for coming. Have you been briefed?" she asked them.

"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison.

"Good, because if anything happens to my parents…"she started.

"Myka, they'll keep them safe, I'm sure, won't you guys?" Pete interrupted her.

"Agent Lattimer," the two agents greeted him.

Just as he was about to respond to them, the Farnsworth buzzed.

"Saved by Artie," Myka told the agents.

"Pete? Did they arrive yet?" Artie asked as soon as Pete activated it.

"Good morning to you, too, Artie," Pete told his boss before answering his question. "Yes they're here."

"Good, because I need you and Myka back here right away. Got another case for you," Artie told him.

Myka moved next to Pete and stuck her head in front of his, "Good morning, Artie, are you going to at least give me the chance to say good-bye to my parents before we have to rush back?" she asked.

"Good morning, and of course, just make it fast," he told her, noticing that she appeared to be in a better mood than she had been last night when they talked.

"Fine, see you soon," she told him with a smile. "Agents, please follow me upstairs so I can introduce you to my parents," Myka said, turning to go upstairs.

The agents followed her as Pete closed and locked the store's front door. After the introductions were over, the two agents Artie sent went with Myka on the tour of the apartment and store that they'd be protecting. Pete gathered the suitcases and started to take them downstairs.

Warren Bering took one of them, "Pip, you better let me help; I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," he teased him.

"Thank you, sir," Pete said as he took Myka's suitcase.

"Is she really okay?" Myka's dad asked as the two men walked down the stairs.

"I think she will be. This whole thing really scared her. She loves you and Mrs. B a lot," Pete whispered so Myka wouldn't hear him. "She doesn't want you two worrying, so that's why she didn't want to tell you about her nightmare. Please don't worry about her, though. I'll take care of her, I promise," he finished.

"You better," Jeannie Bering promised from behind the two men.

"If you hurt her…" Myka's dad threatened him.

"I won't, sir, I promise," Pete promised.

Soon they met up with Myka, Agent Armstrong, and Agent Fine. The agents made themselves scarce as Myka and Pete said their good-byes.

"Thanks for everything, Mr. &amp; Mrs. B," Pete said as he hugged Myka's mom and shook her dad's hand.

Myka hugged her mom. "Yes, thanks for everything, Mom."

Myka then hugged her dad and whispered, "Dad, I love you."

"I love you, too, kiddo," Warren whispered, as he returned the hug.

After releasing her dad, Myka looked at him. "Dad, would you do me a favor?"

"Sure, kiddo, what?"

"Next time you get a mysterious package, don't open it until you call me, okay?" she asked.

Smiling at the thought of his daughter being worried for him, "I promise."

"Good. I'll call you and Mom when we get back," she told him, as Pete escorted her out the door.

"Come on, Myka. Artie's going to get mad if we don't hurry up and get back," he told her.

"All right, stop pushing me," she told him, getting into the cab Pete had called while she was giving Agents Fine and Armstrong the tour.

Myka waved to her parents once more as the cab drove away.


End file.
